


The Light in the Dark

by SpencerRemyLvr



Series: A Collection of Ideas [24]
Category: Criminal Minds, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fatherly Logan, Hurt Spencer, Hurt/Comfort, Past Relationship(s), Spencer is NOT a Summers, Spencer is a mutant, blind!Spencer, past Spencer/Scott
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 12:11:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8532556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpencerRemyLvr/pseuds/SpencerRemyLvr
Summary: After a case gone bad, Spencer wakes up in a hospital only to find that his life has been permanently changed. Now he's got to learn how to cope without something he's relied on his whole life. Luckily, he doesn't have to go through it alone.





	1. Chapter 1

The vibrations of the train around them had long ago soothed Spencer Reid down into sleep. It was something that Logan was grateful for as he sat beside the young man in the train car that was taking them closer and closer to their destination. Shifting his arm a little, Logan tried to adjust them both in the hopes of making his young charge just a little bit more comfortable. If he was going to sleep the trip away he should at least be comfortable while he was doing it. It wasn’t like there was much in his life that was all that comfortable for him right now.

He couldn’t quite resist bringing up his free hand to stroke over Spencer's hair. Just looking down at him had Logan’s heart aching a little more. The protective urge he was known for swelled up inside of him at seeing Spencer looking so small and vulnerable. It made him want to do nothing more than protect him and shelter him from any more harm. The man under his arm had always inspired that urge in him, stronger than anyone else that Logan had ever met. It had only become worse since the accident.

Thinking of that had Logan wanting to growl. A slight shift from the body against his had him looking down. Practiced eyes took in the tiny furrow between Spencer's eyebrows and easily understood what was happening. Even asleep, the little path under his arm was far too aware of the thoughts and emotions around him and he was always more in tune with Logan’s than anyone else’s.

Sighing, Logan closed his eyes and rested his head back against his seat, trying to let the steady rumble of the train relax him and soothe his thoughts and emotions down. It wasn’t working all that well. Too many details and memories were keeping him from really being able to relax. In his mind he could clearly remember the call that had changed everything. Just a few words that had turned his world around. “ _There’s been an accident_.” Aaron Hotchner had told him over the phone. “ _Reid’s been hurt. He…he’s in a coma_.” And like that, Logan’s world was upside down. SSA Dr. Spencer Reid, his scrawny little awkward genius, the man who called him _Pater—_ Latin for Dad—was in a coma.

How he got there was an absolute blur. Afterwards, he’d been told that Hank flew both him and Scott—who was almost as close to the kid as he was—to the hospital that their friend, a man Logan considered his son, was in. But nothing was really clear until that first instant that he’d walked in and seen what Spencer had looked like.

A horrible accident, they said. One of the Unsubs on a case had set off a bomb and Spencer hadn’t been fast enough to get away. The words were horrifying. They acted as their own bomb, shattering parts of Logan’s life into pieces. When Logan had looked at the bed and seen that so-still body with all the tubes coming from him and into him, filling him with medicine and helping him to breathe, he had barely been able to move. In all the time he’d known him, he had never seen Spencer so still or quiet. It had been devastating. Beside him, Scott had been just as stunned, just as heartbroken.

For days, Logan and Scott had stayed with the boy. Scott and Spencer were good friends, having known each other before Logan and Scott had even met. They’d laughed about it plenty of times, how Spencer had met both Scott and Logan separately and had kept friends with them for years, only to have the two eventually meet at the Mansion of all places without any help from Spencer. Scott would joke back that the only thing that allowed them to be friends was their shared affection for Spencer. “If it weren’t for that, we would’ve tried to kill each other a long time ago.” Scott joked.

No one could deny that either man cared about Spencer. It was obvious in the vigil they took up beside his bed. Eventually, though, work had called Scott back to the mansion and he’d had to leave. It’d taken threats from others and promises from Logan to keep him updated twice a day that finally got him to agree to going.

Then one day, a week after the accident, Spencer finally woke. Logan had been the one in the room with him and he wasn’t ashamed of the tears that had filled his eyes as he watched Spencer slowly wake up. Even before the kid was fully alert, his hand twitched around Logan’s and there was a faint brush of his powers against Logan’s mind as he assured himself who was around him. It was a boost to the ego to see as Spencer recognized him and immediately relaxed.

Doctors had been called in and they’d quickly checked Spencer over, monitoring and assessing him as he came back to consciousness. All the while Spencer’s hand stayed locked around Logan’s, a link in the middle of chaos. By the time the doctors were done, Spencer had fallen asleep. He’d woken a few hours later and a doctor had come in to remove the breathing tube from Spencer’s throat. After that, they’d received the biggest shock of all. Spencer's eyes, once he opened them, weren’t the pure white that they’d once been. He’d worn contacts most of his life to hide his pure white eyes. When he’d opened for the first time after the accident them while lying in that hospital bed, it hadn’t been the pure pools of white that Logan had expected – there’d been black. Endless pools of blackness.

Spencer had turned toward those dark eyes towards Logan and squinted at him like he was trying to get his eyes to work. Then they’d widened in a horror Logan knew he wouldn’t forget. “ _Pater_?” The hand in Logan’s had clenched tighter before the kid uttered the words that stunned them all. “I can’t see you. I can’t see!”

The doctors said it was caused by intracranial pressure. Apparently the blow to the head he’d received had caused there to be swelling which had put pressure on his brain, or something like that. Logan wasn’t quite sure. He didn’t understand everything they said, though Spencer seemed to. Test after test showed no further damage to his brain—no memory loss, no loss of functions. Just his eyesight. That was the only thing that was gone. And they gave him no promise that it would ever return. Logan just couldn’t believe it. For a kid who loved to read, who worked as an FBI agent, who was in the prime of his life…to be stripped of something like his eyesight! It was horrifying.

He didn’t give up hope that Spencer would regain it. He absolutely refused to give up hope. It just wasn’t in Logan to give up. Especially not with one of his pups. With that hope inside of him, he told Spencer that he wanted to have Dr. Hank McCoy take a look at him. “You never know, brat. He might be able to help. Considering what it’s done to your eyes, there’s a good chance this could have something to do with your mutation. Who knows? And staying at the mansion for a while will give your body time to heal. You know they’ll welcome you there.” And Spencer had agreed.

Even without his connection to Logan and Scott, Spencer would have been welcome at the mansion. All mutants were. And, if Professor Charles Xavier ever learned of Spencer’s true strength in his mutation, he would most definitely want the boy there, eyesight or no eyesight. Spencer was a dual ‘path’, as they called it. Empath and telepath both. Both mutations were equal in strength and both were stronger than any Logan had met—and that included the Professor. It was with those abilities, actually, that Spencer managed to move around without his eyes.

He had tried to describe it to Logan as they’d been getting ready to leave the hospital. “Every person has this sort of presence to them, _Pater_. A spark, you’d call it. I don’t know how it is for another telepath or empath, but having the two kind of combines my senses together. I don’t see just their mind, but the bundle of emotions that’s them as well. It makes for this spark where the person is. A bundle of their life essence and their emotions. I can sense those in my mind. Without my eyes, I use those to tell me where people are.”

Between that and the bit of therapy they’d been giving him in his bed to help prepare him for a sightless world, the kid managed to get around, though he still needed help. There was plenty that he wasn’t going to be able to even start doing yet. His body wasn’t healed enough for him to try any practice with one of the white canes he was going to have to use. For now, he was still on a regular cane to make sure he’d even be able to walk at all. The other cane would have to come later.

The body against him shifted, drawing Logan’s attention back to the present moment. He looked down at the boy against him and noted the tightness around his lips and the subtle change in his scent. Spencer was hurting. They’d known the train ride would hurt, but it was better than trying to stuff him in a car with his injuries and flying wasn’t smart with the head injury he’d suffered. So, as soon as the doctor had cleared it, they’d taken the train. But the jostling motions were probably bringing to life the pain and Spencer’s refusal to take anything narcotic would make him feel it all the more.

Spencer was stubborn, that was for sure. Logan smiled at that. In every way but blood, the kid really was like his son, even down to personality. They shared some personality traits that made them seem like they really were related.

Adjusting his arm, Logan tried to get Spencer a little more comfortable, hoping to relieve some of his pain. When they arrived, he was going to take his boy to his apartment here in the city. They could rest there for a while before making their way to the mansion. Then, they would see what they would see. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift a little.


	2. Chapter 2

The sleep that Spencer had managed to get on the train ride out here gave him the strength now to stand outside of the mansion that Logan called home. The pill that his father-figured had given him helped out as well. Those things gave him the physical strength to stand there without wavering. The presence of Logan at his side gave him the mental and emotional strength. Bracing his hand on the cane, Spencer took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself for this. Beside him he could feel Logan’s steady presence; always a constant in his life. He could do this. With Logan by his side, he could do this. He could do anything. Logan would never let anything happen to him so long as he was around. “You’ll stay with me?” He couldn’t help but murmur the soft question.

If anyone else had been around, they wouldn’t have heard him. But Logan with his sharp hearing could. “Of course.”

After a quick nod, Spencer gathered himself and listened as Logan opened the door. His one hand was tucked into the curve of Logan’s elbow in the leading pose they’d learned to adopt since Spencer was first allowed to get up and start moving around. The other hand held his cane, which he used to brace himself up as he walked. This kind of movement took a hell of a lot of trust and there were few Spencer would’ve been comfortable doing it with. He had to trust the person to lead him straight, to not walk him into or over anything that he could trip on. Luckily, Spencer trusted Logan in every way possible. He knew the man would lead him straight. That allowed him to not worry so much about his physical surroundings and focus on the rest of it.

They paused in their movements and then Spencer heard another door opened before he felt Logan start forward again. Instantly Spencer’s senses picked up on the other people that were already inside the room. The signatures he felt from them were low enough to let him know that they were sitting, not standing, most likely around the table. He blessed his eidetic memory and pulled up an image of the dining room in his mind’s eye, using that to help him place the people that he sensed with his powers. Not all of them had names yet; he would have to be introduced to attach a name to the specific signature in his mind. But there was one that he knew very well and it was rising and moving toward him.

Spencer couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the edge of his lips. “Scotty.” He breathed out. The presence came close and Spencer held his hand out in preparation. He felt Scott’s brush against his, a light touch that slid up his arm s Scott stepped right up to him and wrapped him up in a tight yet gentle hug. A soft puff of breath sounded against his ear and Spencer felt the man’s happiness and relief wrap around him just as surely as his arms were. “About time you got here, Spencer.”

The little smile stayed in place when they separated. He brought his hand up, hesitantly reaching until he found Scott’s face. He let his fingers trace over his jawline, his cheekbone, then the edge of the visor and finally down his neck to the collar of his shirt. It was a familiarizing touch; right now he couldn’t see his friend, but he could feel him, and something in that steadied him. Scott must’ve understood because he didn’t flinch under it. He just stood there until Spencer's hand dropped lightly to his shoulder. “I’m happy to be here.” Spencer said.

“Now who is this fondling my husband over here?” A female voice said teasingly.

Someone else was moving toward him now. Spencer thought it was the woman that the voice belonged to. There was a soft chuckle from Scott when Spencer let go, but the young doctor just held his hand out, hoping the woman would take it. She did. Her delicate hand grasped his with a firm yet decidedly female touch. “My name is Jean. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Spencer. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Thank you, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Scott’s told me quite a bit about you and I must admit, I’ve been eager to finally get to meet you.” Before their touches separated, he made sure to mark her name to her signature in his mind. Now he would always know her.

Her laugh was slightly smoky; a perfect match to her warm voice. “None of this ma’am. Scott says he’s known you for a long time. You can call me Jean.”

“Then I insist you call me Spencer.” He returned. Logan’s hand settled in the small of his back, bringing his focus to the feral man. “Yes, _Pater_?”

“Let’s get you sitting down, brat. You don’t need to be upright this much. People can come to you if they wanna meet you.”

The stern order—and there was no doubt that it was an order, not a request—had Spencer’s lips quirking. “I can handle some movement, Logan, despite what you seem to think.” No need to mention exactly how badly he was hurting. Every inch of him was throbbing. Despite having rested, Spencer was still sore and fatigued from the long train ride. It had been a painful experience that he didn’t want to repeat again anytime soon.

Logan snorted at him. “Yeah, whatever. Shut up and sit down, brat.”

Behind his shades, Spencer rolled his eyes, knowing that Logan couldn’t see it. Still, he let himself be led to a chair and dutifully took his seat. There were two other sparks across the table from him and Spencer turned toward the one that was slightly to the right and offered a smile. Almost instantly the person was speaking, introducing themselves. “Hello, Dr. Reid. My name is Charles Xavier and this is my home you’re in. It’s a pleasure to have you here.”

“Thank you, Professor. I sincerely appreciate you allowing me to stay here during my convalescence.” Spencer responded just as formally. He tagged the name to the spark in his mind, labeling it for future reference. “What I’ve seen of your home is absolutely beautiful. The gardens are stunning.”

Directly across from him, the voice that belonged to the other spark—the only one that he didn’t know in the room now—said “Why thank you, my child” in a sweet, gentle voice that was warm and soft as a summer breeze. He turned toward this woman that he just knew had to be the woman Storm that Logan had told him about. That was confirmed a second later when she said “I am Ororo and I’m the one who works in the gardens. I thank you for the compliment.”

Despite her kind words it was easy for Spencer to feel her confusion, as well as the confusion coming from Charles, and he couldn’t help but grin. Quietly he sent a quick thought to Logan _//Do any of them know my mutation?//_

“I don’t know.” Logan said as he took the seat to Spencer’s right. “Was it supposed to be a secret?”

Amused, Spencer let his smile grow a little. “No, _Pater_ , it’s not supposed to be a secret. I was simply wondering if the strength of it had been discussed. But, no matter. I’ll explain quickly.” He tipped his head back toward where Charles and Ororo were sitting. “I felt your confusion when I said that this place was beautiful. My apologies for not explaining sooner; I simply assumed that you knew that I’m a dual path. I figured either Logan or Scott would have told you all. I used my telepathy to view through Logan’s eyes as we came up to this place. He let me look in his memories and draw out images of this place so I can navigate around better. I have an eidetic memory, so images like this that I see from his mind, I can pull them up if I need to so that I can better navigate my way around.”

“Absolutely fascinating.” Charles murmured. His smile was evident in his voice. “I’d gathered that you were a telepath, but I didn’t know that you had a secondary mutation. Empathy as well?”

“Yes. They’re actually pretty well twined together. Enough so that they function slightly different than a normal telepath or empath. Instead of having one or the other, I have both and so they affect each other when I use them. I don’t draw just images from people’s minds, but the emotions that go with them. Instead of just hearing a mind voice when I link, I also get the feelings they have at the same time unless I shield against it.”

“You are quite a unique combination, Dr. Reid. There is quite a bit I think we could discuss together.”

Spencer smiled at him while quietly sliding one hand under the table, hoping to make it look simply as if his hand was resting in his lap. In reality, he rubbed at his thigh, trying to ease the muscles above his aching knee. His body was aching and it was slowly making itself more and more known. He felt Scott’s light touch brush against his arm and then his friend was drawing the others into conversation, saving Spencer from having to talk. He settled more comfortably in his seat and sent a small wave of appreciation to Scott.

* * *

Exhaustion was slowly setting in as time stretched on. Spencer found himself leaning back in the high backed chair, trying so hard not to drift off to sleep. But Logan was watching as his young charge finally lost the fight and fell asleep. Shaking his head, he reached over and brushed back the kid’s bangs from his eyes. Stubborn fool. Logan could practically _smell_ how badly the kid was hurting. It was thrumming all along his usual scent. But if there was one thing Logan understood, it was pride. Pride kept Spencer from bowing down and admitting he hurt. Pride kept him from taking anything but the ibuprofen that the doctor had given him.

He took the boy’s sunglasses, hooking them on the front of his own shirt. Then he turned to look at the others. “I’m gonna go ahead and take him upstairs. He’ll crash in my room and pick which of the two he wants for his tomorrow.” He told the others at the table.

Ororo was watching him sadly. “He seems so much younger asleep.”

“He always has.” Scott said. His expression twisted slightly with a pain that not many in his life knew about. “Awake, his masks are in place. Asleep, you can look at him and remember he’s only in his twenties. Still so young.”

A soft murmur startled them all. “He may be blind, but that doesn’t mean he’s become deaf.” Spencer told them all sleepily. “ _Pater_ , can I have my shades back? I think I should go pick my room before I fall asleep again. I hadn’t realized how tired I am.” The masks that Scott had mentioned were slipping back into place. Everyone could see as Spencer’s face lost that young look to it and became one that was slightly older and slightly cynical. Logan hated seeing that cynicism on Spencer. He hated knowing the things that had put it there.

The young doctor’s eyes opened and Logan found himself smiling. There was a hazy look to his eyes—eyes that had caused the kid so much grief in his life. Logan knew that Spencer had always been a bit uncomfortable with his purely white eyes, though the feral hadn’t been the least bit bothered by them. But the discomfort Spencer had felt before was nothing compared to how Spencer felt about them now. The purely black eyes, even if Spencer couldn’t see them himself, made the kid visibly uneasy. He didn’t like them to show. Logan, on the other hand, enjoyed them almost as much as he’d enjoyed their previous whiteness.

Without giving back the sunglasses, Logan reached over and hooked his hand under Spencer's elbow, offering him something to hold on to. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you upstairs and you can pick your room.”

When he was on his feet, Spencer braced one hand on his cane and folded the other over his stomach as he gave a small bow that amused more than a few people in the room. “It was a pleasure to meet you all. I look forward to getting to know you more over the next little while. And thank you once again, Professor, for allowing me to stay here.”

“Not at all, Dr. Reid. The pleasure is ours. Go, rest. We’ll speak again tomorrow, I think.” Charles said kindly. He watched as two men left the room. Only when they were on the staircase, far enough away that Logan’s hearing wouldn’t pick up on his voice, did Charles finally speak again. “They are quite a pair.”

Scott snorted and picked up the cup of coffee he’d been sipping off of. “To say the least. I’ve never seen anyone, though, that can handle Logan like Spencer can. He’s got Logan wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even realize it half the time.”

“He seems to have that effect on people.” Jean teased. She ran her hand down Scott’s arm to lace their fingers together. He looked over at her and grinned, not even bothering to deny it. “He does. Half of it is that he _doesn’t_ realize it.”

Ororo took a drink of her tea and smiled at them. “He’s quite a gentleman. And he seems like a kind soul.”

The look on Scott’s face softened just a little. “He is. He’s one of the nicest people I know. Oh, he’s got temper in there. In that, he’s definitely Logan’s son. He can explode when his fuse is lit right. But, it takes a lot to actually light that fuse. He’ll take a lot of crap from people without a word until they finally push him too far or press that right button. Then he can almost put Logan to shame in temper tantrums.”

Laughter echoed around the table. Sharing a smile with his wife, Scott put his arm around her, pulling her in by his side. His thoughts drifted toward the boy upstairs once more. He hoped that Spencer would settle in well here. And he could admit that he hoped that maybe, after he’d had been here for a while, he would realize that this was where he was meant to be. Then maybe he would finally stay, as Scott had been trying to convince him to do for years.


	3. Chapter 3

It took a bit of convincing for Spencer to actually get Logan to let him pick a room instead of just bundling him straight into Logan’s room. Nice as the idea was of hiding away in Logan’s space, Spencer knew that he couldn’t. He couldn’t let himself fall into the trap of leaning on Logan any more than he already was. There was too much risk that he’d just get too comfortable there and refuse to come back out later. One thing the woman at the hospital had taught him was that he was going to have to try and live his life, even if it seemed impossible. Hiding wouldn’t help him learn how to deal with his loss of sight. The only way he was going to adjust to it was if he made himself work at it.

Once he finally managed to not only get his room, but to get Logan to show him a mental picture of it so he could be able to navigate his way around, it was another battle just to get the man to actually leave him in here.

“You sure you don’t want me to at least stay till you go to sleep, pup?” Logan offered, yet again.

Standing in the middle of his new room, Spencer put his hands on his hips and glared in the direction that Logan was. Being nice hadn’t worked. Now it was time to be stern. “No, Logan. Go to your room. You’ll be just two doors down. It’s not like you’re going to be far away.”

He knew that Logan hated the fact that he had deliberately accepted this room instead of the other. The other would have put them across the hall from one another; this one put a room between them.  Apparently someone named Gambit slept in that room. He’d heard Logan and Scott talk about the fellow quite a few times, but his tired brain couldn’t seem to think too hard on it right now. Not that it mattered. He didn’t care who was in that room. Spencer wanted this one. It had a balcony.

It took him another ten minutes to shoo Logan out of his room and only five minutes after that to get changed into just a pair of pajama pants and to climb into bed. With a soft sigh, Spencer snuggled down under the blankets and his exhausted body easily slipped down into sleep.

* * *

For as easily as he drifted off to sleep, it was only hours later when he was violently jerked right back out of it.

The last dregs of the nightmare ached inside of Spencer’s head, making him tremble in his bed. The last thing he wanted was to go to Logan and admit to the man that he’d been right. If Logan found out he’d had a nightmare, he’d make Spencer sleep in his room or he’d curl up in here and Spencer would never sleep alone again. He knew that it was okay to lean on other people, but he was becoming far too dependent on Logan and he didn’t want the other man to coddle him any more than he already was.

Habit had him grabbing his sunglasses and putting them on before he did anything. Those had become even more a part of his wardrobe since his eyes had so strangely changed their color. Then, rising from his bed, Spencer used the mental image of the room that he’d gleaned from Logan to lead him over to his balcony. It took a bit of shuffling and stumbling, and almost tripping right into the door, before he made it. After slinging on the robe he’d unpacked and hung on a chair by the door, he opened the door and breathed in the sharp night air, letting it shove away some of the panic.

A soft sound came from his left and he felt the essence of another person, a mutant, nearby on what his brain told him had to be the next balcony. Either that or the person was standing out there in open air. Around here that was actually a distinct possibility. Spencer had no idea what kind of mutations people around here had.

The smell of a cigarette drifted toward him on the night air. The urge hit Spencer low in his gut, making him wish he’d been able to bring some with him, or could’ve stopped by the store for some. Typically he didn’t smoke anymore, but nightmares like this always did him in. It was something that he didn’t exactly advertise. Pretty much everyone in his life except for Scott and Logan would’ve been stunned at even the idea of Spencer wanting a cigarette.

“Well, evening dere, _homme_.” A warm-honey voice with a thick Cajun accent drifted toward him on the night air. “Didn’t know I was getting a new neighbor, me. Hope Remy didn’t disturb y’ none.”

Ah, so this was Remy, his infamous neighbor, also known by the codename Gambit. Scott and Logan both always had interesting things to say about this particular Cajun.

It was different to meet someone and not have his vision there to help him along. Spencer was so used to not just looking, but _seeing_. Profiling people even without consciously choosing to do so. Most of the profiling cues that he knew were things that could be seen—being without those made this whole thing extremely strange. All he had to go on were what he could hear and what he could feel. What he felt didn’t seem like a whole lot; this man’s presence wasn’t as strong as others, almost like he was shielding a bit. What he could hear, well… Spencer decided he liked the warmth in the man’s voice.

The young genius carefully moved himself over toward the side of his balcony, hand following lightly on the wall, until he reached the partition that separated their balconies. He found it with the tip of his cane and managed not to stumble, thankfully. Leaning his weight against it just enough to ease his aching libs, he tried to offer a smile in the direction of that voice. “You didn’t disturb me.” He said pleasantly. It was much nicer to be talking to someone than to be stuck reliving the nightmare in his mind. “I’m Spencer, a friend of Logan’s. I’m going to be staying here for a little while.”

Aching, he shifted his weight, trying to adjust to better lean against the wall. He managed to find a position that didn’t exacerbate his injuries too much.

“Nice to meet y’, Spencer. I’m Remy LeBeau.” There was a whisper of sound, like material moving over material, and Spencer figured the man had bowed or something like that. Hopefully he hadn’t held his hand out to shake. Apparently Remy hadn’t heard anything about him and didn’t know that gestures like that were wasted on him. A smile curved Spencer’s lips and he lifted one hand to give a small wave.

Despite the humor he was finding out here, the nightmare that Spencer had had was still itching underneath his skin, the images of it playing through his mind without any new visual stimuli to block it all out. There was a shake to his hands that wasn’t all from the low grade pain he was feeling. Deciding it couldn’t hurt to try, Spencer asked for the one thing that might help a little. The one habit that he absolutely abhorred and that he only indulged in when things got bad like this. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra cigarette, would you? I wasn’t able to pack mine with Logan watching me so closely. He doesn’t entirely approve of my ‘bad habits’, the hypocrite.” Which was sort of ironic, seeing as how it’d been a combination of Logan’s cigars and Diana’s old smoking habits that had sparked Spencer to start using this as a comfort. While cigarettes didn’t give the same scent as Logan’s cigars, nor were they the same scent as the menthols Diana used to smoke, the smell of the smoke itself was sometimes enough to remind him of the two people who meant most to him and it helped relax him. The nicotine itself helped even more.

“Wolvie just a big teddy inside.” Remy said with a snicker. “Dis ol’ Cajun got his number f’sure. Here, _homme_.” Something flew through the air and landed right by Spencer on the wall. He reached out and found a pack of smokes there. If Remy thought anything of the way Spencer was fumbling around, he didn’t comment on it. Gratefully Spencer smiled and pulled one from the pack even as he hitched a hip up onto the wall. After he pulled one out and held the pack back out, he heard Remy tell him “Just toss em t’ de ground. Usually hide dem out here, anyway. Den m’ Roguie don’t find dem. Y’ need a light?”

Spencer chuckled around the cigarette and shook his head as he pulled his lighter from his robe. He cupped one hand around the end of the cigarette and used that to try and help guide himself to where the flame was. It was interesting, lighting a cigarette without being able to see, but he managed it. He pocketed the lighter and took a long, deep drag, breathing the smoke out with a sigh. “Oh, thank you.” He told his neighbor.

“No problem.” came Remy’s easy reply. There was the sound of movement before Remy spoke again. “So, what’s got y’ up at dis ungodly hour, _homme_? Aint no one ever up at dis time.”

“You are.” Spencer shot back, earning him more laughter.

“ _Oui,_ _mais_ dat’s normal fo’ Remy. Been fighting with his _femme_ again and dat always makes m’ nights just a lil restless.”

Well, that was honest. Spencer took another drag and decided that he could be honest too. At least, a little. “My night’s a little restless too. I figured it was better out here than pacing the room.”

“Aint it just? Least I don’t got training in de morning. Fearless would wipe de floor with dis po’ Cajun fo’ letting problems with Roguie keep him up all night and making him sleepy.”

The more that Spencer listened to this man talk, the more amused he grew. There was just something about the easy going personality and the open way that Remy talked that made it easy for Spencer to smile despite the images still playing in his head. “Fearless?”

“Scotty, de Fearless Leader.” Remy clarified. Some of Spencer’s amusement must’ve shown because he asked “What’s so funny over dere?”

A grin spread over Spencer’s lips. “Never heard anyone else get away with calling him Scotty before.”

“Oh, dat one? He’s another pussycat, dat man. Y’ just gotta know where to scratch to get him purring fo’ y’.”

The idea of someone scratching at Scott and making him purr had Spencer laughing enough that he had to brace his hand on the wall. “Oh man. He’d blast you into the nearest wall if he heard you talking about him like that.”

He could hear as Remy shifted around. There was good humor radiating off of him, making his spark glow a little more, and twining its way through his words. “Y’ know Scotty?”

“Yeah.” Spencer took another drag and blew it upwards. He had a feeling he might have to answer this question a lot over the next little while and he’d prepared himself for that. “About thirteen years now.” Another pull off the cigarette and Spencer could feel that it’d reached its end. He didn’t have an ashtray with him and he had no idea if Remy had one out here, so his best bet was going to be the bathroom to flush the cigarette but down the toilet. With that in mind, Spencer started to push up from the wall, wanting to give himself time to stumble in there before the cigarette burned straight to the filter. “Sorry to cut this short, Remy. I think I’m going to go try and get some more sleep. I appreciate both the cigarette and the conversation.”

“Was a pleasure meeting y’, Spencer. Y’ have a good night.”

“A pleasure to meet you too.” He said honestly. And it had been. Their conversation had been nice and refreshing, without any of the stress that Spencer usually felt when talking to someone. “Good night.”

When he went back in his room and shut the door, making his way to the bathroom, he smiled to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning found Spencer in the passenger seat of Logan’s jeep, heading toward the city. It wasn’t exactly Spencer's idea of a good time but he wasn’t all that good at denying Logan. Not when he’d sounded and felt so hopeful even as he’d gruffly told Spencer they were going to head into town. For Logan, the young genius pushed down his fears about going out in public. _Logan won’t let anything happen to me,_ he reminded himself as he got ready to go. _He’ll keep me safe. He won’t let anything happen to me and he won’t let me crash into anything. I’ll be fine._

Aside from their trip here, this was the first real excursion that Spencer would be taking without his eyesight. He didn’t really count the trip here as much; he’d been taken to a train and then slept most of the way. But this wouldn’t be just riding around places with short walking from one ride to the next. This would be movement, walking, shopping, navigating down streets and past moving cars and through crowds of people. The idea of it made Spencer feel a little sick.

Then again, at least going out was better than what Spencer had thought he’d spend his morning doing. He’d been sure Logan would have him down in the labs first thing to start checking him over and trying to ‘fix’ all this. But when Spencer asked as they made their way downstairs, Logan told him “Nah. It’s Saturday, so Blue aint here. He usually does some shopping of his own and shit on Saturdays. He’ll be back tonight and we’ll have you in there tomorrow morning, don’t you worry about it, brat. Now, let’s go get you some shit.”

The car ride itself was easy. Spencer was almost getting used to the sensation of being taken places. It helped that he trusted Logan absolutely. There was no doubt in his mind that he could trust Logan to get him where he needed to go and to do it safely. It wasn’t until they were parked and it came time to get out that Spencer really got nervous. This was… it was going to be big. Huge. He couldn’t use a long cane—barely had any idea _how_ to, really—because he still had to use the support cane until his injuries healed. Logan would lead him and he’d do it safely, yes. But Spencer was going to have to trust himself over almost completely to the other man’s protection. Especially with stress making his shields still a little wonky. Spencer wasn’t going to be able to watch for trouble around him. He wasn’t going to be able to use the profiling skills that he’d started developing as a child to gauge the behavior of people close to him who might cause trouble.

The sound of the door opening beside him had Spencer jumping in his seat. He’d gotten too caught up in his thoughts to realize that Logan had gotten out and was coming around to his side. Stupid! That was the very thing he needed to avoid! Getting caught up in thinking wasn’t as safe for him anymore. It’d never really been safe before but it was less so now.

Spencer forced those thoughts away. No, he was _not_ going to sit here and think about all the things he _couldn’t_ do. If he did that, there was no way he would ever get out of this car… truck? Truck. If he focused on all the things he couldn’t do he would never be able to get out of this truck and do pretty much anything. And Spencer refused to spend his life hiding.

Forcing on a smile, he tilted his chin up and extended his hand. “Sorry about that. I was thinking just a little too deeply.”

“It happens.” Logan said, closing his hand over Spencer's. He braced Spencer as the young genius slipped down out of the truck and carefully to the ground. The car ride hadn’t been horrible but it hadn’t been great on his aching body. Spencer held on for a moment until he got his support cane free and braced in his right hand. Then he reached out with his left to trail his fingers over Logan’s wrist and up his arm, finally settling on the spot just above his elbow where they’d both learned it worked for Spencer to hold when being guided. His touch was just tight enough to keep hold without being too tight.

Logan was used to it enough that he didn’t even seem to notice it all that much. “I parked us pretty close to the entrance so there aint much between us and the front doors. No steps or anything like that. You wanna tap in an take a peek around or wait until we get inside?”

The casual way in which Logan offered to let Spencer look through his eyes was a gift that Spencer knew well enough to treasure. He knew it wasn’t something that Logan would’ve really offered any other telepath out there. “I’ll wait.” Better to save that kind of intrusion for when it came time to actually look at things. Even knowing that Logan didn’t mind it never made Spencer feel any better about doing it.

It was so strange to walk beside Logan and not technically know where he was going. Spencer knew his steps were slow and hesitant; he couldn’t help it. There was that fear that sat in the back of his mind with each step. Was he going to miss a curb? A rock in his path that might make him stumble? Some piece of trash Logan wouldn’t think anything of but that would trip him up? Would he try to go to fast and trip himself? What if someone stepped in his path and he wasn’t able to sense them fast enough? All of that and more played around in Spencer's mind and made him extra conscious of each step he took. With his powers, he tried to keep an eye on anyone who got at least somewhat close. He couldn’t do it constantly or in a large radius without straining himself. But the immediate area? That was fine. He wasn’t trying to read minds or emotions. All he was doing was sensing the spark of each person around him. At least that way he was somewhat capable of watching out for himself.

Logan, on the other hand, moved with his usual steady stride, like there was nothing that could get in his way that wouldn’t know well enough to jump back if he got close. As he moved, he spoke, his voice acting as another anchor for Spencer. “So I figured you probably need to get a few basics. We didn’t exactly pack you much. Curb.”

The warning was enough to have Spencer carefully reaching out with his support cane, leaning more on Logan for a moment. When he found the curb he braced the cane on it just enough to help him make the step up. “I don’t need that much, Logan.”

“You need more than nothing.”

There was no arguing with that. Spencer gave a small squeeze to Logan’s arm in acknowledgement. Then he found himself leaning in just a little more as the air around them shifted in a way he was starting to recognize as the movement from outside to inside. Sound changed as well. It was less… open. There were more echoes to some noises that he could pick up as well as a subtle change in other sounds. Their footsteps sounded different, with a hint of a squeak to it. There were new sounds, ones that he couldn’t quite place at first. Not until they moved to the right and Logan said “Let me grab us a cart. I don’t feel like carrying all this shit.” The sound of the wheels over the ground told Spencer clearly what it was he was hearing around him.

There were scents as well. Perfume, soaps, plastic, something that smelled sort of like bread as they went past it. Spencer kept his light hold on Logan’s arm and tried not to let it all overwhelm him. His senses didn’t feel stronger than they had been before—it was just, it felt like he was paying more attention to them. He couldn’t see, so he was trying to draw in everything he could from every other sense. It was sort of overwhelming.

“All right,” Logan said, breaking into Spencer's thoughts. “Let’s get this done with. I don’t feel like spending all day looking at clothes.”

With Logan’s help, and a bit of his powers to look at what Logan was seeing, the two managed to get quite a bit done a whole lot easier than Spencer had anticipated. Picking things out was simple enough. There was no reason to dress to impress, so he kept it casual. Not to mention that he didn’t want to have to deal with figuring out a system yet so he’d know what shirts and vests matched and which didn’t. Much simpler to just get some slacks, some button up shirts—which were easier to put on right now with his injuries—and even a few pairs of jeans at Logan’s insistence. Once he saw what he wanted from the mental image he got off Logan, he could direct his friend towards it or even move himself, though he still got nervous about breaking free from Logan.

After that, they picked up the other basics he’d need. Deodorant, shampoo, soap, razors… all the essentials. It was slow going with Spencer's injuries but they got it all done.

As much as Spencer hated to admit it, he was ready for a break once they were done. It was close to lunch and, after a brief stop at a gas station, Logan took Spencer to the apartment that the feral kept here in town so they could sit down and eat. Neither one mentioned that they both knew Spencer just wasn’t ready for the idea of eating in public yet. Besides, Spencer hurt too much and he was just too damn tired to want to be out anymore. The young man barely made it into the bed before he started to fall asleep. Exhaustion and Logan’s close proximity kept the nightmares at bay, allowing him to peacefully sleep for almost two hours.

While Spencer napped, Logan stretched out in his living room and made a call to Aaron Hotchner to let him know how the boy was doing. Aaron answered within just a couple rings. “ _Hotchner_.”

“Hey, Hotch.” Logan puffed his cigar to life lazily. “How’s it going?”

“ _Logan_.” Realization of who it was had Aaron’s voice warming a little. It also dropped down into familiar, worried tones. “ _Things are going fine here. How about you two? How are things there? Is he settling in well_?”

That was a bit of a loaded set of questions. In his usual blunt way, Logan answered him. “He’s still hurting quite a bit, body and mind, but he’s trying to act tough. I’ll let him get away with it for a while, but I’ll call him on it if it gets too bad. He should know he can’t hide things from me. Everything is making him nervous and scared, something he really doesn’t want to admit to.”

Aaron sighed a little. “ _That sounds like Reid_.”

“He’s jumpier than ever and pretty skittish. Sometimes I don’t think he even realizes the expression that gets on his face or the way he pulls back. Reminds me of when he was younger. But he seems to be doing okay with the people. Ro likes him and so does Chuck. And he was genuinely happy to see Cyke.” Puffing on his cigar, Logan chuckled. “He snuck out for a smoke on his balcony last night and seemed to make friends with Gambit, though he doesn’t know I heard them.”

“ _Smoking? So he’s having nightmares again_.” The last wasn’t a question, but more a resigned statement.

It made Logan wince a little. He hated that the kid was having nightmares once more. He had to resist the urge, same as always, to find William Reid and smash his face in for the mental scars he’d left on his son, not to mention the physical ones. “Yeah, he is. Bought some today too when he thought I wasn’t looking.” The kid had thought he was slick, insisting that Logan give him some money and point him in the direction of the little store, claiming that “I have to try it sometime, Logan. I can’t hide forever.” Ha! Idiot. While what he said was true, Logan knew there was more to it than that. He knew Spencer had wanted to do more than just buy his own drink. But the feral hadn’t called him on it. Let him have his illusions for now. “I left it alone, though. If it’s what he thinks he needs right now, I aint gonna judge. Besides, he might be out there smoking with Gumbo, but I can tell ya there’s no one better for him to talk to, Hotch. Don’t worry there. I think the two will do each other a hell of a lot of good.”

Something sounded in the background on Aaron’s end and then the man was saying “ _I’ve got to go, Logan. Something just came in. I appreciate you calling and keeping us updated. We all know how Reid downplays things._ ”

“It’s no problem, Hotch. You guys take care. I’ll pass on your love and such.”

Once the phone was hung up, Logan sat and finished his cigar, letting his mind just drift. When it was done he got up from the couch and made his way back to the bedroom. For a few long minutes he just stood and watched Spencer sleep. It tugged at his heart to see the way the young man curled in on himself even in his sleep. The animal in him saw the weakness in Spencer at the moment and demanded to protect him. With a soft sigh, he gave up the fight and went into the room, kicking off his shoes and climbing in bed with the kid to curl protectively around him as he’d done so many times before. He didn’t sleep, but both animal and human were satisfied to quietly lie there, listening to the even breathing of the one that was considered his son; his cub.


	5. Chapter 5

Once Spencer woke from his nap, he and Logan took some time to eat together before they headed back out. It wasn’t that bad eating with Logan. The idea of eating in front of others still made Spencer a bit nervous. The woman at the hospital had taught him some tricks but it wasn’t automatic for him yet. At least when it was just him and Logan he didn’t have to worry too much about fumbling around. Logan never commented on it. Nor did he try and force his help on Spencer. He set his plate in front of him, told him where everything was, and then let him figure it out on his own.

Once lunch was done, and the pain pill Spencer had taken had time to kick in, the two set out once more. They weren’t going to be out for long, Spencer knew. He hated it but he could recognize that his body just wasn’t ready for long trips. Doing this much had been pushing it.

Logan opted to leave their stuff and his truck at his apartment and the two caught a cab to their next location. Spencer had no idea where it was; the address Logan gave meant nothing to him. But when Logan led him into the building, there was a scent in the air that Spencer knew well. One that had a smile curving his lips. “ _Pater_ , did you bring me to a bookstore?”

He could hear the grin in Logan’s voice and feel the affectionate amusement from him. “Go figure you’d recognize this place even without your eyes.”

The place had that book smell to it that Spencer had always loved. He loved the scent of a new book. Or even an old, favored one. Add in that hint of coffee that lots of these places carried and it had made it easy enough to place.

Anyone else might’ve been surprised and maybe even a bit appalled that Logan would bring a newly blinded Spencer to a bookstore of all places. Spencer knew better. He knew Logan wasn’t the type to ne needlessly cruel to people he cared about. Sure enough, when Logan led them through a store and stopped them by some books, what Spencer found when he reached out wasn’t a typical book. It was a book in braille.

“They got some books here to help teach braille. Two up and three to the left of the one ya got.”

The fact that Logan used words not his own hands to guide Spencer had the young genius sending a swell of love to his father figure. Logan was a great balance of help without pushiness lately. Overprotective, yes. But he didn’t force his help on Spencer. He didn’t assume that Spencer couldn’t do anything just because he couldn’t see.

They walked out of the store with a few beginner braille books that Spencer honestly couldn’t wait to crack open. Being without his eyesight was not going to deny him the pleasure of reading. He’d be damned if it would.

The next place they went to was somewhere that Logan had to have looked up specifically for this trip. It was a shop for the blind. The fact that Logan had taken the time to look this place up, to find it… Spencer gripped tightly to Logan’s arm as they stood inside and tried to find his voice past the lump in his throat. “ _Pater_.”

“I’m not giving up hope on Blue helping you.” Logan said firmly. He reached over, curling one hand over the hand that Spencer had on his arm. He gave it a gentle squeeze. “But there’s no telling how long it might take him to help, an there aint no point in making you struggle while you wait. I talked with Scooter and he gave me a list of things that might be good to get. Stuff that might make it a little easier to get through the day.”

“You didn’t have to do this.” Spencer croaked out.

The hand over his gave a light smack, one that usually would’ve been delivered to the back of his head if he hadn’t been injured. “Shut up.”

To Spencer’s surprise, he found some interesting things inside. With one hand on his cane, he put the other hand on the inside of Logan’s elbow, not only walking with him but riding his eyes. It was a strange sensation and very disorienting, to look through someone else’s eyes while walking beside them. Nothing seemed to match up right around him. So, instead of staying that way, he only slipped over to Logan’s mind when they stopped at something.

By the time they left the store, they had a good sized bag of things that Spencer would’ve never even thought of getting on his own. There was a talking alarm clock, a folding cane with a rolling ball tip that Spencer liked the feel of, a liquid pouring aid that would help him know when to stop when pouring a cup of coffee without having to burn his finger to make sure he wasn’t pouring too much, a deck of braille playing cards, some plastic dividers to separate things in his closet, a new pair of sunglasses that would protect his eyes which were proving to be surprisingly sensitive to the light he couldn’t even see, and this extremely neat device that the lady in there showed them that would be able to read and identify his money for him. “It’s easy to learn how to fold it properly so you always know what you have. But things like this can help you feel sure, an they can help you make sure the change you get back is the change you’re supposed to get.” It could either read it out or give a certain vibration to let him know what bill it was.

That store seemed to be the limit of what Spencer could handle. He was aching more than he wanted to admit to, exhausted, and more than happy to go back and get the truck so they could head back home. He didn’t even argue when Logan pressed another pain pill on him.

They were only halfway home when Logan saw that Spencer had fallen asleep once more. He let him sleep, knowing that he wasn’t getting it at night anymore.

When they arrived home, he gently gathered Spencer in his arms, figuring he’d come back for the bags later. It ended up not being necessary. Remy came in on his motorcycle right as Logan was lifting Spencer up. The Cajun stopped when he saw them, a gentle smile ghosting over his lips when he saw the sleeping man in Logan’s arms. There was no hesitation before he offered, “Y’ need a hand with de bags, _mon ami_?”

“Sure thing, Gumbo. Thanks.”

Together they made their way in the mansion and up to Spencer’s room. Remy set the bags against the wall, discreetly out of the way. Then he hurried forward to pull the blankets back on the bed so that Logan could lay his charge down. “Thanks.” The feral murmured. His touch was as gentle as could be when he laid Spencer out onto the bed, working hard not to jostle him too much. This trip had probably pushed Spencer way too much and Logan had a feeling he’d be hearing about it from Hank later. Still, he knew Spencer had needed it. Not just the things they picked up, but just doing something, anything, other than sitting around here all day. Even though it hurt he’d needed to get out.

He reached for Spencer’s shoes, pulling them off and setting them down at the foot of the bed where he knew Spencer liked to keep them. One he had those out of the way he lifted the blanket up, tucking it around the kid. Then, because he couldn’t resist, he brushed Spencer’s hair back from his forehead and pressed a kiss to the skin there. “Sleep well, brat.” Last, he took Spencer’s sunglasses off, setting them on the nightstand.

He and Remy made their way from the room, Logan quietly shutting the door behind them. Remy flashed a smile at Logan and started to head to his own room. “Y’ have a good night, M. Logan.” He called out.

“Rems.”

Logan’s low rumble drew the Cajun’s attention. Remy stopped, one hand on his doorknob, eyes turned back toward Logan. “ _Oui, mon ami_?”

“I know you and Spencer got to talking last night.” Logan said slowly. He wanted to make sure he said this just right so that he wouldn’t offend his friend. “I trust you, Rems. I know you won’t hurt him. Just…be patient with him, okay? He’s not as tough and cavalier as he tries to act sometimes. I think a friend like you would do him a world of good, but he’s going to take a lot of caution and patience for the next little while.”

The older man could see the questions in his friend’s eyes, but true to form, Remy didn’t push him. He was a good friend like that. Hell, he was a good friend, period. Not many people gave Remy that much of a chance, but Logan had and he knew more about the man underneath the façade than anyone else here except for maybe Ororo. He knew the type of person Remy was—the good guy he was inside and how loyal and caring he was. Once he cared for you, he’d be there for you no matter what. He’d go to the wall for a friend without a second thought. “I’ll be careful, Logan.” The first person speech made the promise that much more sincere.

With one last shared smile, the two separated.

* * *

Hours later Spencer woke in a sweat, a scream locked behind his lips. It took him a few deep breaths and some long minutes before he managed to calm his racing heart and remind himself where he was and that he was safe. There was a brief moment of disorientation when he realized that he was waking up in a place different than where he’d gone to sleep, but a quick touch around him and a scan of the people nearby told him that he was in his room at the mansion. It took a few more minutes after that for him to still the trembling in his limbs. _You’re safe. You’re not there; that’s the past. That happened a long time ago! Snap out of it! You. Are. Safe!_

Knowing that he wouldn’t go back to bed any time soon, he got up and stripped out of his sweaty clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket. Then he dug in the bag he’d originally brought with him that carried his only easy to wear clothes, feeling at the material there until he found a clean pair of pajama pants. He put them on, then his sunglasses and finally his robe. Once he was dressed—or as dressed as he planned on being at whatever time of the night this was—he made his way to the balcony. Even as he stepped outside, he felt the presence of his neighbor.

“Well fancy seeing y’ here, cher. Dis a regular t’ing with y’?” Remy’s voice was teasing, pulling a smile from Spencer.

Spencer moved over to wall as he answered. It felt easy to focus on teasing with Remy instead of the nightmare that was still trying to cling to him. “I could say the same to you.” He taunted the other man. Finding the spot where the wall separating the balconies joined the wall of the house, Spencer sat down carefully, resting his back against it. The support eased him and let him relax a little. He was tired and sore from moving all day and from his dream. Pulling his smokes from the pocket of his robe, he pulled one out and lit it, putting the pack and the lighter back in his robe pocket.

Remy snickered slightly. “I see y’ snuck away from Wolvie long enough to get y’ some smokes, yeah.”

“Took a little work, but I managed. He probably smelled the pack on me, but we have a kind of understanding. So long as I try to hide it, he pretends to let me. It’s when I don’t bother hiding it that he doesn’t keep quiet.”

“Sounds like a system.” Remy moved closer, sitting on the wall only a couple feet away from Spencer. “So, never got round to asking y’ last night. Seeing as y’ got y’r own room and everyt’ing, dat mean y’ staying on as a student or as one of de X-men?”

Spencer took another drag and grinned at him. “Is that your subtle way of asking if I’m a mutant, Remy?”

“Am I dat transparent, cher?” Came the teasing reply.

Snickering, Spencer shrugged. “Maybe a little. But, either way, I am not a student, nor am I going to be an X-man…” He’d be a huge liability for them all in the field. “…but yes, I am a mutant. I just…needed a place to be for a while.” Honestly, he was surprised Remy hadn’t heard anything about him yet. Had Scott and Logan not really told the general residents of the house about him? Had they not explained anything Because Remy didn’t seem to know anything about him. He still didn’t seem to even notice that Spencer couldn’t see him!

It surprised him when Remy didn’t say anything about the last part of his statement. He glossed over it, almost as if he hadn’t been able to hear the tremble in Spencer’s words at the end. “What kinda mutant are y’?”

“Are you going to show me yours, too?” Spencer asked teasingly before he thought about it. Sleepy still and oddly relaxed around the Cajun, he didn’t think about his words until they were out of his mouth. Only then did he realize how it sounded. Immediately he held his hand out, shaking his head and chuckling. “Forget I said that. I get this strange feeling you might take that in a way I didn’t actually intend.”

“Someone been spreading **r** umors bout dis po’ boy again?” Remy tried and failed to sound innocent.

“Maybe they have and maybe they haven’t.”

“Well, dat’s no fair, cher. Y’ gonna know de dirt bout Remy but Remy don’t get to know de dirt bout y’.”

The smile Spencer gave him was both smug and flirtatious at the same time. “Guess you’ll just have to learn it on your own, hm?” It was so easy to sit here and talk to Remy. Never before could Spencer remember taking to someone quite the way he was taking to Remy now. He didn’t want to question it the way he usually might. Right now, an easy going friend was exactly what he needed.

Remy laughed once more, the sound warming Spencer’s insides. “I t’ink y’ and I gonna be good friends, cher.”

“I think I might like that.” Spencer replied easily. He flicked his ashes and tipped his head back against the wall. “But, if we’re going to be friends, I should probably answer your question, huh? Ugh. People never take to this part very well.” He shrugged and went for broke; if they were going to be friends, he’d have to be honest about himself. “I’m a dual path.” Pretending to flinch, Spencer let his face form a sulk. “Go ahead, throw something at me. I understand.”

Remy sounded surprised. “Throw somet’ing at y’? Why would Remy go and do dat?”

“You mean you actually like telepaths?” Spencer said with mock surprise. “I don’t mind being an empath. But a telepath?” He pretended to shudder. “They give me the creeps. I’m almost ashamed to admit it to people. I’d throw something if I were you. Most likely something like food. Rotten, preferably. Or, oh, something with sauce so it makes a nice mess.”

There was a moment of silence and then the balcony was filled with the sound of Remy’s laughter. Spencer let his grin grow as he listened to the sound. When Remy finally calmed down, he said “Oh, cher, y’ had me worried fo’ a second. Y’ got de strangest sense of humor, y’ know dat? _Mais_ , thought y’ was serious fo’ a minute dere at first.”

“Meh.” Spencer shrugged once more. “Logan tells me all the time my humor is twisted. Or nerdy. He often calls me nerdy. It’s just my lot in life.” Even more relaxed than before, he let his grin grow a little more. “I’ve decided to officially like you, though. Not many people get my humor. I can’t afford to let one slip past me.”

Shifting, Spencer went to take another drag. Unfortunately, the movement dragged his stitches against the wall accidentally and the pain flared to life, spreading down his arm and making his hand spasm, jerking his fingers into the burning embers of his cigarette. The cigarette dropped and a curse slid past Spencer’s lips. He pulled his hand in toward his chest and cradled it close, bending over it and trying to breathe through the pain. His ribs screamed at the movement and his leg gave a cry when it was knocked against the wall. Dammit!

He felt Remy move quickly forward, hands going to his shoulders. “Spencer? Spencer? Did y’ burn y’ hand? Let Remy see now, cher. Come on.”

“My hand’s fine.” But oh, his other injuries were _screaming_ at him now. There was no way he was going to get away from this wall now without his cane. As if to agree, his knee throbbed once more. He kept the pain locked behind his shields, making damn sure that Remy wouldn’t be able to feel it. Wincing at the burn in his back, he realized something. Either he was going to have to go down to Logan’s room and wake the man to have him take a look and see if Spencer had damaged the stitches by his shoulder blade, or he was going to have to ask Remy. It seemed preferable to ask Remy, dependent on him being able to keep his mouth shut about this to Logan.

After another few breaths, Spencer gathered the strength to talk almost normally. “Have we been friends long enough for me to call on a favor, Remy?”

“Depends on de favor.” Remy said slowly.

“I need you to look at something and I need to know that you won’t tell _Pater_ —I mean Logan—about this. He’ll just worry more and lecture me to death.” Holding his breath, Spencer waited, hoping Remy would do this for him despite how little they knew about one another. The last thing Spencer wanted was to give Logan cause to worry for him more.

After a pause, Remy gave his answer in a firm voice. “ _Oui_ , cher. We been friends long enough fo’ dat. What’s going on?”

Relief had Spencer relaxing. “Oh, thank God.” He said fervently. “I really don’t need him fussing even more. Right now he’s managing to do it without being too overbearing, but I don’t want to push my luck. Thank you, Remy.” Spencer flashed a quick smile, tipping his head back up. He tried to hide his nerves and hoped that he wasn’t making a mistake in trusting this man. But nothing about him so far had made Spencer feel uncomfortable or distrustful. “If you don’t mind, I need you to look at the back of my left shoulder and make sure I didn’t just damage my stitches on the wall. I moved wrong and scraped them, hence why I dropped my cigarette.”

“Stitches?” Remy said with surprise. He didn’t give Spencer time to answer, though. He was already moving and speaking. “Let’s get y’ in de room so y’ don’t freeze. It’s too cold out here fo’ y’ to be stripping, yeah?”

“Eager to get me out of my clothes?” The teasing reply slipped out without thought.

There was that warm laugh again as Remy told him “Maybe I am and maybe I aint, cher. Y’ just gonna have to find out.”

Grimacing as he tried to move, Spencer made himself give up a little more pride and ask “Would you hand me the cane from beside the bed, then?”

Whatever Remy thought of that, he didn’t say. When Spencer heard Remy move inside the room, he used his good hand to grab under his knee and lift, adjusting his leg so that he was finally sitting with both feet on the floor, the hand that he had burned still cradled to his chest. Absently he pushed his sunglasses back up. When Remy came back out, Spencer held a hand out, gratefully accepting the cane. It only took him a second to brace it and lever himself up. Cautiously he limped his way into the room, mentally cursing all the while.

Remy followed behind him, keeping close. Most likely he was prepared to help if necessary. “Go ahead and sit on de bed, cher. Y’ get y’r robe off and we’ll take a look at t’ings, _d’accord_?”

Gratefully Spencer sank down onto his bed when he reached it. He leaned his cane against the nightstand before reaching for the tie on his robe and undoing it one handed. He said nothing as Remy’s hands joined his, helping him slide his arms from the robe. Then he felt the man move to the other side of the bed, climbing on so he could be behind him. With no warning, the touch of Remy’s hand against his skin made him jump ever so slightly. He heard a low murmur of apology before gentle fingers ghosted over the skin near his stitches. Spencer heard Remy’s soft intake of breath and felt the flare of concern with his empathy, but none of that was in Remy’s voice when he said “Y’r stitches still good. Looks like it needs cleaned a lil, though. Y’ got dat cream Henri gives out somewhere in here? I’ll put some on fo’ y’.”

“Logan said earlier that there’d be some on the bathroom counter. I hadn’t used it because I haven’t managed to get to see Dr. McCoy yet.” Spencer said. He shifted, feeling just slightly embarrassed. “Thank you, Remy.”

“ _Pas de problème_.”

Absently Spencer rubbed at his knee with his right hand, easing the ache that was there. It had been nice, both last night and this night, to be able to talk to someone who not only didn’t know who he was, but didn’t know what had happened to him either. It didn’t sit between them like it did with other people. It was so nice to have someone just talk with him without that knowledge there. One thing Spencer had learned since waking up was that people found out he was blind and they tended to start treating him differently. That was the last thing he wanted. He’d been enjoying this start of a friendship with the Cajun; Remy was so much fun to talk to. But that would most likely change after this.

He felt Remy coming back toward him and tried not to sigh. Better to just come clean with it now. It wouldn’t take much for the other man to find out anyways. Honestly, Spencer was surprised he hadn’t already. So, when he felt Remy sit behind him and heard the top to the cream pop open, Spencer started to speak before Remy had the chance to ask. “Before I came here, I worked as a profiler for the BAU with the FBI. We profiled and helped capture serial killers.” He blurted out. Having to use the past tense made his heart throb. “We were on a case where our Unsub, our killer, was hunting and killing mutants as their powers manifested. Boys, specifically.”

The cream touched his shoulder, making him hiss for a second before it started to soothe down the ache there. Closing his eyes, Spencer kept talking, keeping his shields tight to keep his emotion from leaking out. “When we figured out who he was, we went to make the arrest and we found he had a kid there. I tried to talk him down and I managed to get the kid away from him, but I read a thought in his mind at the last minute and found out he had a bomb. I barely had enough time to turn and run three steps before it went off. They say I shot out the living room window.”

“ _Mon Dieu_.”

Spencer swore he could still feel the vibrations through every inch of his body as he’d flown through the air. “I was far enough away that my clothes protected me from the little bit of flames that got me. I woke up a week later in the hospital.”

The soft touches against his stitches stopped and Spencer felt Remy shift on the bed, moving so that he was beside him. “ _Je suis désolé_ , Spencer.”

He shrugged with his one good shoulder. “The kid was saved. That’s what mattered to me.” He twisted, his eyes closing again, head dropping down just a little. “Logan was there when I woke up. He told me the window sliced open my shoulder and that I had four bruised ribs and one cracked. Guess I banged my knee, too. They told me it’s basically a giant bruise, but no serious damage. And, I guess I struck my head when I landed. They’re not sure what happened, but they know I had some ICP. Inter-cranial pressure. They had to relieve it. But, apparently it did something. When I woke up…” he felt his breath shudder slightly and he firmed himself up. “When I woke up I couldn’t see.”

“ _Quoi_?” Remy said with a surprise that managed to even slip in through Spencer's shields. “Y’r telling me y’r blind? Never woulda guessed dat, me. Y’ don’t seem like it!”

“My telepathy and my empathy make it easy for me to recognize who’s around me. Each person has a distinct feel to them. Once I link a name to that feel, I recognize them in the future.”

“Y’ move round so easy, though.”

Again, Spencer shrugged his good shoulder. “With my telepathy, Logan let me get the image of this room and the balcony from his mind. From there I can remember. I have an eidetic memory, so once I see something, I remember it. I could get more from people if I lowered my shields. You’d be amazed how much people unconsciously project. But, I don’t like the idea of violating privacy that way, so I keep my shielding up.”

“Huh. So, y’ really are just here to rest up fo’ a while, den?”

This was going a lot better than Spencer had anticipate. Remy wasn’t really freaking out. Mostly he sounded… curious. “Pretty much.” Spencer said agreeably, a little more at ease now that Remy was reacting so well. “Logan would’ve stayed there with me at my apartment, but he wants me to see Dr. McCoy just in case something in my mutant physiology might make the difference in my blindness. I think he hopes the Doc can fix it. I know better. This is just… this is my life now.” Pausing, Spencer shook his head. “I won’t stop him from trying to help, but I’m not going to let this get me down and I’m not going to let it define my life. There’s more to me than my eyesight.” He hoped repeating that would help him to remember it.

 “Good fo’ y’, cher.” Remy reached out and touched his shoulder in a friendly sort of way. “We aint defined by what we can or can’t do in life. Y’ are who y’ let y’rself be.” With soft movements, Remy rose from the bed. He must’ve sensed that this had been enough for Spencer tonight. It was a whole lot more sharing than the young genius had planned. Once on his feet, Remy patted his shoulder. “I t’ink dat’s enough fo’ one night, cher. Why don’t y’ try to get some more sleep? Remy, he’ll see y’ tomorrow night if y’r up. If not, maybe we run into one another in de mansion, _oui_?”

“Maybe we will.” Smiling, Spencer listened as the Cajun let himself out, the door shutting behind him. Only then did Spencer carefully lay himself down. He was still smiling when he fell asleep.


End file.
